


Partition

by QueenSabriel



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6270541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSabriel/pseuds/QueenSabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt "Would you try for me?" - shameless kilt!smut because the fandom needs more of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partition

"Would you try, for me?" 

"My love," Touchstone said, glancing over at Sabriel as he straightened his sleeves. "There are many, many things I will concede to you on, however, stooping to Ancelstierran fashion standards just to avoid bruising their delicate sensibilities is where I have to draw the line." 

Sabriel, who was very sensibly dressed for the evening in a beautiful blue and silver gown, folded her arms over her chest, scowling at her husband.  

"I'll guarantee you I'm not the only king showing up in traditional clothing," he said.  

"Yes but we're the ones trying to convince Ancelstierre that we're not...barbarians," Sabriel said. She looked down with a sigh. "It's one little thing, Touchstone. Please can you just wear trousers instead of the kilt?" 

Now Touchstone was trying to not look too miffed. He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Sabriel, I know that you understand politics much better than I do, and I know it's important to gain the others' respect...however if I remember anything my mother taught me, its that if the only way to gain someone's respect is by changing who you are...then you aren't _really_ gaining their respect." He kissed her gently. "I'll wear the jacket, waistcoat and shirt but I'm wearing my kilt. If their sensibilities can't handle it, that's not my fault." 

Sabriel heaved a sigh and shook her head, turning to take her shawl out of the wardrobe. Touchstone walked over, wrapping his arms around her from behind. Unfortunately this simply elicited another sigh. "We're going to be late." 

"Please don't be angry with me," he said, brushing his fingers lightly over the swell of her stomach. "Our little bean doesn't want you to be angry." 

Sabriel rolled her eyes. "Our little bean doesn't have much by way of desires right now. But I'm serious, we have so much to prove to them...I'm _nineteen_ , Touchstone. I'm nineteen and a girl and they already think we're savages..." 

"I don't have to wear trousers to prove that we're not savages," Touchstone replied. When Sabriel turned in his arms he lightly cupped her jaw in one hand. "And as for you, I can prove that there are advantages to wearing a kilt." 

This time Sabriel was unable to hide her faint smile, even as she bit her lower lip. Finally she gave his chest a little push. "We're going to be late. If you're going to show up dressed like a wild barbarian king we might as well be on time." 

*** 

"It's unfair! It's so unfair. You should be able to celebrate too. You should be able to...alcohol..." 

Sabriel tried hard to not start laughing again as they left the chief minister's home, Touchstone's arm slung around her shoulders as she helped him down the front steps to where a driver was waiting with a long black car to take them back to the embassy. "I know, my love," she said, giggling. "The things I'm giving up for this baby already." 

Touchstone came to an abrupt stop. "It's my fault," he said, looking momentarily distraught. "I got you pregnant." 

"Pretty sure I had something to do with it," Sabriel replied, giving her slightly-more-than-tipsy husband a push towards the open car door. "But I forgive you if you get into the car." 

Back inside the house the party was still going, and if Sulyn was right would continue to keep going well into the night, but Sabriel knew enough to tell when it was time for her to head home. Besides, she didn't want to deal with Touchstone being too hungover the next morning and he did seem to take quite a liking to whatever brandy they had been serving. 

Touchstone flopped down onto one of the long seats and watched Sabriel as she got in after him. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, holding his hand out to her. "I love you so much." 

"I love you too." Sabriel said. She curled at his side as the car pulled away, then leaned in and kissed Touchstone, earning a pleased little _Hmmm_. After a moment she drew back and murmured, "And you were worried about me not being able to celebrate..." 

Touchstone peered at her, blinking several times as he reached up to brush her hair back from her face. 

"Shemblis did warn you that I'd have an insatiable appetite," Sabriel said with a wry grin. She rested her fingers on his knee, running her thumb over the hem of his kilt. 

" 's talking 'bout food," Touchstone said, looking about as far from the conversation as it was possible to be. He looked down to see her hand creeping a little further up his thigh. "Told you." 

"Told me what?" Sabriel asked, shifting so she was half kneeling on the seat.  

"The kilt. It's useful." 

"Hm." Sabriel lightly stroked his inner thigh with her fingertips for a moment, watching the way his breath caught and his pulse picked up, a flush darkening his cheeks even further. Even with the slight drunkenness blurring his gaze, the look he fixed her with was enough to send a hot flush through her. 

Touchstone shifted a little on the seat. "C'mere." 

Sabriel cast a brief glance at the divider between their part of the car and the driver, but then decided that he should have known what he was getting himself into when he offered to drive a teenaged queen and king around. She waited until the car slowed then turned so she was straddling Touchstone's lap, her hands on the seat behind his head.  

"Beautiful," Touchstone said, putting his hands on her hips. He slid his hands up then, somehow managing to undo the back of her dress so that she could slide her arms out of the short sleeves, baring her torso to him. 

At the first touch of his lips to her breast, Sabriel let out a little moan, wrapping her arms around his neck. He kept his hands on her waist, steadying her as he moved his lips to lightly catch her nipple between them, a sensation that caused her to moan again, louder this time and to rock her hips against his.  

"Hngh, _Touchstone_ ," she muttered, trying to lift herself to get the far too many layers of fabric out from between them, but he wasn't exactly helping with that. Then she was up, and Touchstone slid his hands under her skirt and removed her panties so quickly she found herself wondering if he'd simply torn them. 

Touchstone let out a startled noise when a second later Sabriel was kneeling on the floor of the car. She looked up with a devious smile as she slid her hands along his legs, pushing his kilt up around his hips. Then with one last glance she lowered her head to take him into her mouth. Touchstone let out a low groan, head tipping back and fingers threading into her dark hair.  

When he opened his eyes and looked down a thrill went through him at the sight of her; pale hands resting on his hips, head bobbing slightly, shoulders moving as she shifted. Though he was loath to make her stop, he gave her arm a squeeze.  

Sabriel drew off of him and looked up, face flushed, swollen lips parted, expression ravenous. She didn't wait for him to say anything before climbing back into his lap again, thrown briefly against him as the car swung around a corner. They kissed, deeply and Touchstone slid his hands between them, trying not to fumble too much as he guided himself into her. He swore loudly a second later when she lowered herself onto him. 

" _I love you_ ," she whispered against his ear. He might have murmured a reply, but was too distracted a second later when she pushed herself up and began to move, rocking her hips forward as she lowered herself then pushed up again, leaving him unsure that he could have moved even if he wanted to. 

Instead he kept his hands on her hips, moaning out "Sabriel... _Sabriel-!_ " with every thrust of her body. He could feel her muscles shifting under his hands, could see the flush creeping down her neck and chest and hear her own moans of his name that sent heat and tension pooling low in his body. 

Then, faster than he might have expected she was coming, gasping as she clenched around him and shuddered, her smooth and fluid movements momentarily interrupted. But she didn't stop, and looked him in the eye as she began to move again, squeezing him impossibly, perfectly, and whispering, "Come for me." That was all it took, the feel of her, the sound of her – he barely stifled a loud cry, his whole body tensing. 

Sabriel slid off of him, collapsing in a panting heap on the seat beside him. The faint glow of street lights shining in through the tinted windows set a flickering glow across her skin. Touchstone's head was still swimming, but he turned, reaching over to run his fingers reverentially down her arm and across her body.  

"Alright," she breathed. "You made your point." 

" 'S a good point," he murmured. "Very good point. Very, _very_ good point." 

Sabriel was quiet for a moment then she chuckled quietly. "Poor driver." 

"Ah, whatever," Touchstone said, flopping his hand dismissively. 

Laughing, Sabriel sat up, holding the front of her dress to her chest as she leaned over to kiss him. "And you can definitely keep wearing kilts. In fact, I might insist on it." 


End file.
